%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Loves better then Gold: / OR, / MONEY's an Ass. / Come hear my Song, it does you all concern, / From it you may your own Misfortunes learn: / And yet 'tis vain, as hereby I shall prove, / For want of Money to neglect your Love. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1672-1672 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 09/19/2018 35885

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R227262 1 To a New Delightful Tune, much in request at Court [unknown] To a New Delightful Tune, Much in Request at Court WHy should friends and kindred gravely make thee, / Wrong thyself, and cruelly forsake me, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. : Loves better then Gold: / OR, / MONEY's an Ass. / Come hear my Song, it does you all concern, / From it you may your own Misfortunes learn: / And yet 'tis vain, as hereby I shall prove, / For want of Money to neglect your Love. Loves better then Gold: OR, MONEY’s an Ass. Come hear my Song. it does you all concern, From it you may your own Misfortunes learn: And yet ‘tis vain, as hereby I shall prove, For want of Money to neglect your Love. Love's better than Gold: OR, MONEY's an Ass. Come hear my Song, it does you all concern, From it you may your own Misfortunes learn: And yet 'tis vain, as hereby I shall prove, For want of Money to neglect your Love. 1672-1672 P. Brooksby

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction / health alcohol Americas animals / nature Bible / biblical figures buildings / architecture catastrophe children class clothing / appearance country / nation crime death economics / commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays / seasons infidelity labor / craft law London love maritime marriage military / war monstrosity mythology / Classical news nobility / court politics / government procreation punishment race / ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex / sexuality supernatural / magic travel trickery / deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth / age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 9/19/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America advice economics / commerce love Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 9/19/2018 10:58:36 AM XBallad Messner, Milena Created XML Version of Ballad 9/19/2018 10:58:36 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 10:58:36 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Adkison, Katie Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 10:58:36 AM Transcriptionist Two Ward, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/19/2018 10:58:36 AM Transcriptionist One King, Joyce Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/31/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/29/2018 Checker Jessica Zisa Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/1/2016 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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WHy should friends and kindred gravely make thee, Wrong thyself, and cruelly forsake me, Be still my dearest Mistris, hang relations, Loves above their dull considerations; Let them live and want to heap up treasure, Whilst that thee and I enjoy our pleasure. He that seeks a Mistris in a portion. Puts himself to use with damn'd extortion, If he must be brib'd to copulation, Pox upon his love, 'tis out of fashion: Where we like, no matter where th' estate is. 'Tis not love except he shews it gratis.
How to see the Miser have I wondred, Weighing out his passion by the hundred, Ne'r consulting birth or education, Vertue without wealth's but prophanation: Be she old or ugly 'tis no matter, So she is is but rich he'l venture at her. Joynture is a sordid lay invention, Quite beside our nature and intention: When we would agree it makes resistance, Finding tricks to keep us at a distance: Then who poorly makes a new election, Suffers wealth to Cuckold his affection.
SOuls are free and shou'd not be confin'd to, Objects which the fancy has no mind to, When a pretty female I importune? Shall I lose her for her want of fortune? 'Tis a folly, sordid, and inhumane, Thus to sell the pleasures of a woman. More to me the pleasing of my mind is, Than the far-fetcht wealth of both the Indies, I've a soul above those drossy treasures, Love does yield more sweet and lasting pleasures, Such joy as nothing can destroy it, None describe it but they that do injoy it. Yet the low-soul'd wretch may have his fancy, I can value nothing but my Nancy: She that has an eye so black and sprightful, And a place I name not more delightful? Such a mine as greater wealth affordeth, That the wretched worldling ever hoardeth. Rows of brightest and of shining pearls are, Not so oriental as my girls are, Rubies touch her lips, and gain more lustre, Looking redder when that they have bust her, Her red cheeks so fair she need not patch it, There's none but the other cheek can match it:
Then for humour, wit and conversation, Nothing can be like her in the Nation, Always lively, airy, brisk and jolly, Free from studied pride, and Melancholly? Such she is, and her I love more dearly, than the dame that has her thousands yearly. There you cringe and make your best addresses, But alass she likes not your caresses; Speak and Bow as well as e'er you can Sir, Ten to one if e'er you get an answer: When you'r gone she crys a sawcy fellow, Come to me without his white and yellow, He that can and will this hag may marry, But for me the jade is like to tarry; Let her live till lust and age do grieve her, Till she call her Money to releive her; May she covet Husbands without measure, Always wish, but know not of her pleasure. Still my girl and I will love each other, Want of wealth shall ne'r my passion smother Were she rich I could not love her better, Were she poor I would ne'r defeat her: Whatsoever I have I must confess it, She deserves, and therefore shall possess it.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Hospital-gate, in West-smithfield.